


Gravity

by send_help_immediately



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Carlisle is having a rough time, Charlie is lonely, Could Be Canon, Hurt/Comfort, I might write more later or maybe it'll stay a oneshot, Just Friends, Why Did I Write This?, but charlie sort of likes him more than friends and doesn't realise it, just two bois spending time together because work, more emotional than it needed to be, not m/m at all really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-27 21:24:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20052766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/send_help_immediately/pseuds/send_help_immediately
Summary: Charlie needs help on a case and gets stuck with Carlisle, even though they don't know each other very well.OrCarlisle has a panic attack and opens up to Charlie and they both feel better afterwards.





	Gravity

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be light-hearted bonding, but I guess I can't write anything without making it lowkey dark
> 
> Could be canonish but idk.
> 
> I'm not sure if I'll add more chapters yet or not, but probably knowing me.
> 
> Feedback welcome?

There was an awkward pause as we stood alone in the corridor. Aside from being put through the shredder by his manager, I was pretty sure that Carlisle knew that I’d just witnessed the whole ordeal. I didn’t know what to say to him, and I don’t think he knew what to say to me. “Hi, Charlie,” he started eventually, his normally melodic voice now quiet and a little unsure. The smile he forced was rather weak, and I could see on his face that it had been a long shift. I wasn’t sure if I could still ask him to help me now. “Are you ready to go?” he continued. 

I just nodded. We walked in silence out to my cruiser, me shoving my hands into my pockets to stop my anticipatory fidgeting while he folded his arms across his chest. The car created a bubble from the cold outside, trapping the two of us in a capsule away from the rush of the hospital. I shoved my keys into the ignition and risked a glance over at Carlisle. He was focused on the scenery out the window, but something was bubbling under that calm exterior. I wondered if it was rude to ask how old he was - jesus, he didn’t look much older than Edward. He must have entered university a few years earlier than normal at the very least. “You alright?” I asked a few roads later. 

He nodded that he was. Still, the question made him squirm, the breath he took held for too long and shaky once it was out. 

I flicked on the radio to get rid of the unbearable silence; he obviously wasn’t in the mood to chat. Thank god. The peeling of tyres in wet gravel played under the radio host's voice, a low-volume white-noise of sorts. The drive wasn’t a long one, but my shoulders were aching from the tension in the vehicle by the time we arrived at the station. Carlisle was out of the car before I could even turn off the engine. I caught up to him on the front deck, the steps creaking under my weight. “You sure?” I hadn’t wanted to ask but the words were out before I could stop them. 

Again, he nodded. Obviously not a smooth talker like his son. I wondered if he was nervous - it looked like he was nervous. Not that I’d ever spent more than five minutes with him at a time. How would I know if he was bloody nervous. Still, something was off.

I grabbed his wrist as he reached for the door, his eyes meeting mine as he flinched at the contact. “You don’t have to do this, Carlisle, I can ask Dr Snow. If it’s just been a rough day, the case can wait until tomorrow.” I trained enough recruits over my years to recognize the apprehension in his face. The last thing I wanted was for him to pass out - medical professional or not, working with a corpse could be a shock to the system.

“I’m fine, Charlie. I need the distraction anyway,” he murmured. 

I breathed a sigh of relief - I couldn’t stand the other doctor, and he wasn’t half as good as Cullen was known to be. When I contacted the hospital coordinator, I’d specifically asked for Carlisle, and thank god he’d agreed to help. He hadn’t even asked what the case was - I still hadn’t told him - but he’d seemed happy enough to work with me until his boss had disemboweled him in front of half the staff. 

We spent the next two hours going over a body in the morgue, Carlisle never recoiling from the smell of sour rot that I choked on. He seemed more at ease now that we were focused on work again, continuously reciting observations for me that I’d missed, evidence that my eyes were blind to even though I’d been in the police force 30 odd years. Again, I got stuck on that age thing. He was so brilliant at his job that the credentials can’t have been faked, but looked so young that they can’t have been real. The ID he’d shown at reception put him ten years younger than me, but he wasn’t anything close to 40. He wasn’t even 30. There was no way. I could see why the young nurses got so dizzy over him, though. He came to stand beside me again, and I tried to watch him out of the corner of my eye while he flicked through the file in front of us. 

I’d never been this close to him before. His arm was inches from mine as I held the paper in front of us, him keeping his gloved hands well away. The hair on the back of my neck raised, a sense of danger pulsing through me, but the next words out of his mouth washed all of that stupidity away. “Did he have a family?” he asked softly. Without him saying it, I could hear the desperate for me to tell him no, that the man was a wanderer, no known relatives, no one left to get hurt. The genuine compassion was there, actual caring past the job. He’d take this home with him tonight to dwell over, for sure. There was no point in lying to him. 

I nodded. “He has a couple of kids. Teenagers, rather.” 

He turned away, ripping off the gloves to throw them in the trash. I heard his breath catch as he reached the other side of the room, my stomach sinking as I glanced over to see what had happened; perhaps this case had been too much for him. 

The sheet covering another body had slipped free, the frozen stare of the child fixated on the roof. Carlisle seemed suddenly nauseous, ashen faced and glued to where he was standing. I started to apologise for my staff’s carelessness, but he cut me off. “What happened to him?” The question was blunt and trembly. 

I knew that he knew. He was a doctor - there was no way that he didn’t recognise the indentations in the skull for what they were, the blood clots behind the eyes from the intense blows, the collapsed rib cage. Again, there was no point in lying to him. “Domestic abuse,” I sighed. We both knew it was far too common in these parts. 

He didn’t reply, didn’t step back or look away. 

“Carlisle?” I crossed over to him, cautiously closing my fingers around his wrist. He was far too cold; we’d been in this damn refrigerated box far too long. “We’ll probably need help with that case too, if you like,” I tried to joke with him, anything to break the tension. It didn’t work; he was trembling a little, and I was scared he was going to faint. 

“I-I can’t, Charlie,” he told me nervously, his voice shaking as shallow breaths caught in his throat. 

Not knowing what else to do, I jerked the cover back over the body, cutting off his view of it. “That’s enough for one day; come, I’ll drive you back to your car.” He didn’t follow when I tried to lead him away, and I stopped to face him again. “I’m sorry you had to see that, but let’s get out of here - you’re freezing.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” he mumbled. “His dad did this to him? Was he an only child?” He looked like he was about to puke, holding his hand against his lips and biting his fingernails. The longer I took to respond, the more he seemed to be struggling to breathe, the colour draining from his face, and it was like watching a train wreck - I couldn’t look away. It hit me with a sudden jolt. Carlisle was having a panic attack. 

I’d seen people have them before of course, countless time when they’d become overcome with grief, and the emotion spewed back out in an uncontrollable wave. Except this was different. This was something else. This was pure fear. Fear over something I wasn’t seeing.

I pushed my way in front of him, trying to pull him out of whatever was happening in his head. “Come back into the office,” I urged. I wasn’t equipped to deal with this. No way. 

It didn’t work. His struggle to breathe erupted into hyperventilation, barely repressed sobs as he shook so hard that I wasn’t sure how he was still upright. Shit. I was so out of my depth. And fuck, he looked so terrified, and I didn’t know how to end this for him. As much as I wanted to call Esme, to not deal with this at all, I really wanted to be the one to fix this; he deserved better than this. 

So I hugged him. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pulling him into me and slowly rubbing his back. Carlisle was a little shorter than me - not by much, but enough that this was comfortable - and it took a moment for him to be coherent enough to hug me back, his hands creeping around my waist. He was so cold. 

“I’m really sorry, Charlie,” he mumbled after an eternity, once he’d managed to calm himself a little.

“It’s alright,” I told him awkwardly. I didn’t feel awkward because I hated this. No, rather I liked hugging him. It felt good, right almost, though I was acutely aware of him being a lot slimmer than I was. I’d never thought of him as fragile before, but that was how he felt in my arms.

It took a while before he started to breathe normally again. Even then, I was pretty sure it would only take the slightest thing to make him burst into tears. His hands still shook, and he didn’t look okay like he told me he was. He stammered another apology as I pulled him back into the lobby. I kept my hand on his wrist, pulling him toward my office to get him away from the rest of my staff. “Can you please make us a pot of coffee?” I asked my receptionist lowly. 

She glanced up, annoyed at first until she caught the look on Carlisle’s face. Her protest dissolved and she just nodded. 

“Come.” I slipped my arm around his waist, gently ushering him forward. I closed the door behind us, sitting on the edge of my desk as I made him sit in the chair in front of me. He immediately leaned forward, rubbing his hands over his face. I waited until the receptionist brought us the coffee and a couple of mugs before trying to speak to him again. “What happened?” I asked slowly. 

He flinched at my question, avoiding all eye contact suddenly. “I can’t,” he told me softly. 

“Can’t what?” I frowned. “Tell me? I can call Esme, if you would rather-”

“No- no, I don’t want to scare her- I-” he stuttered, quickly shaking his head. Again, he looked like he was struggling not to cry. 

“Then tell me,” I interrupted. My hand met his again, and I squeezed his fingers. “What happened just now? You had a panic attack, right?” 

“That kid- my father used to...and seeing that kid like that…”

I’d seen this far too often. How victims couldn’t bring themselves to say the words. The urge to have my arms around him again was almost overwhelming; Carlisle was far too good to have had something like that done to him, too sweet to have had to go through that. “Your father was abusive,” I guessed softly. 

He hesitated, unable to look at me as he nodded. 

“Have you told your family? It could help.”

“...I haven’t told anyone before, Charlie,” he managed to get out. “I didn’t think it mattered anymore; it was so long ago.” 

“Of course it matters, Carlisle.” I flopped down in the seat next to him, hugging him again before I had thought it through, pulling him toward me. His response was a little slow, but he did cautiously start to relax against me. We sat like that in a thick silence for a while, and I tried to figure out why having him close to me made my heart beat so erratically. I was sure it was about to hammer out of my chest. “Tell me about him?” I asked slowly, gently trailing my hand up his back. 

He paused so long that I wasn’t sure if he was going to speak again. “Are you sure?” he asked. 

“Yeah.” I’m a cop. I could handle it. Except as soon as he started talking again, still very hesitant to say anything about it, nausea pitched itself in the pit of my stomach. My blood was boiling, but my anger was quickly quelled for the time being by the state that Carlisle was working himself up into. He cut himself off suddenly, sinking his teeth into his lip and resting his head against my shoulder to hide his expression from me. My head was reeling. I just kept my arms around him for god knows how long, until his shaking subsided and I could make a coherent thought that wasn’t violent or rage induced. “Have you ever pressed charges? It’s not too late for that.” 

“He’s dead; it doesn’t matter now,” he mumbled. 

I sighed and dropped it. “Are you okay, Carlisle?” 

He looked up momentarily, our eyes meeting before he quickly looked away again. Not okay at all. “I’m alright.”

“You sure?” Letting him go didn’t seem like a good idea. I didn’t want him to crumble again. He just nodded. Slowly, I loosened my hold on him, sitting back a bit to rub his arm. “It’s been a rough day, huh?” 

He forced a smile, the tension finally sinking from his shoulders. “I guess so. I’m so sorry, you shouldn’t have had to deal with all this; we were just supposed to work together, a-and-” 

“And you’re human. Shit happens.” I smiled back. As much as I felt bad that he’d felt so horrible the whole time we were together, I decided I did like spending time with him. He wasn’t nearly as abrasive as Billy could be, and I was fairly sure that we’d have a bit in common if I could get him talking - his family went camping often enough, perhaps I could bring him fishing next time I went. It wasn’t like he fit with the hospital politics all that well. “Come, I’ll drive you back to your car. Your shift is over, right?” 

“Yeah, thanks, Charlie.” Relief flooded his face as we stood up, his posture dissolving. 

I waited until we were almost back to the hospital car park before starting again. “Do you want to grab some coffee tomorrow? There’s a place down the road that serves great drinks, and…” God, that sounded far too much like I was asking him out on a date. I felt my face flush, heat rising in my cheeks. Of course I had made this weird already. 

Still, his smile was a little more genuine now. “Yeah, that’d be nice. I’m buying, seeming as you had to put up with me this afternoon.”

“No,” I protested, starting to laugh as I shook my head. So it was him that Alice got her good-nature from. 

He rolled his eyes, out of my car a little too quickly to be entirely normal. “Yes. See you tomorrow, Charlie.” 

Maybe having Edward as a son in law wouldn’t be so terrible after all.


End file.
